


Just look at the state (you got me in)

by Miele_Petite



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fanart, M/M, Naughty demons that need thwarting, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/pseuds/Miele_Petite
Summary: Crowley decides to show a little more skin than Aziraphale thinks is appropriate for the front room of his shop, and the angel gets too distracted for reading...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 294





	Just look at the state (you got me in)

**Author's Note:**

> I was egged on by a few folks to draw a picture of Crowley in a very sexy bodysuit and as I was drawing unfortunately this scene came to my mind. Or fortunately if you think it's good to be horribly distracted.  
> I couldn't find a way to work the apple in, but enjoy the connotations of that in the art anyway LOL

Aziraphale snapped shut his second best copy of Piers Plowman and tucked it neatly on top of an already leaning stack. It was the last of his cataloging for the day, and as he gazed outside at the grey day, he resolved to spend the rest of the chilly January afternoon reading at his desk with a nice, hot cup of tea. And maybe a biscuit or two. 

After switching on the kettle in the back room, he weighed his options as it hissed and rumbled. Ovid's _Metamorphoses_ was always a treat, he supposed, but then he'd not read Gower's _Confessio Amantis_ in decades, possibly a century, so it might be just the thing to pick it up again. Just as the kettle clicked off and steam lazily curled from the spout, though, he heard a voice from the front door.

"Heigh ho, angel!" Crowley chimed, as he strolled in. "What's on for this afternoon?"

"What's on," Aziraphale called from the back, "Is a nice cup of tea and some John Gower, I've decided. It's far too cold to venture outside, positively miserable. Sod the park today, I'd as soon avoid it. Now that you're here, will you join me? For the tea, I mean?"

"Eh, sure," came Crowley's reply, and so Aziraphale reached for another cup and strainer. Smiling at how much nicer two cups side-by-side could look than a lonely single one, he measured out the tea leaves and poured in the water to let it steep. He scooped up his book and strode cheerfully out to the front room to see the demon standing there, absentmindedly fingering the edge of a volume of Aristotle. 

"Interesting bloke, him," he said.

"Oh yes," Aziraphale agreed, smirking. "I suppose you and he must have really got on." 

Crowley snorted but gave no other reply.

"The tea will be just be a moment, dear," Aziraphale said, and gave him a peck on the cheek before turning to place the Gower on his desk. When he turned back, Crowley was unwinding coils of long woolen scarf from his neck. He pulled it neatly away and set it aside with a flourish. What was showing underneath was not his usual shirt and waistcoat, but the angel didn't bat an eye. It was hardly unusual- Crowley was constantly changing his clothes. As the demon headed for the sofa, he puttered to the back room to finish with the tea. 

When he finally stepped back out, full mugs in hand, Crowley was taking up a good three-quarters of the sofa with his slender frame, his coat now slung over the arm of it, revealing fully his new attire. It was a sheer halter top so tight it could have been painted on, with serpents coiling up the sides, and it was showing a lot more demonic muscle than Aziraphale was expecting, outside of his bedroom. The angel stopped short, spilling tea over the rug as well as his hand, and he yelped as it burned.

"Crowley, WHAT?" he stammered, "What are you wearing?"

Crowley, grinning, leapt up and took the mugs out of Aziraphale's hands and put them on a table before miracling the spot from the carpet, and placing a soothing kiss on his burn. "This? Do you like it?"

"Like it?" Aziraphale gasped, sounding scandalized. "It's ridiculous. Look at you, tsk, it's _freezing_ , you'll catch your death." He put his hands on Crowley's collar bones and shoulders in a vain attempt to cover them, but ended up just contemplating that heated skin all the more. A quick glance down displayed though, that exactly to his point, the demon's nipples, showing easily through the transparency of the fabric, were hard with the chill in the air. He gulped. Despite being cozy under layers of cotton and velvet, he felt his own harden in response, and a blush lit him up from ribs to cheeks. Something else stirred too, farther down.

"I think I'll live." Crowley murmured, stepping closer.

Aziraphale pulled his hands away and stepped back. "Not to mention that it's _entirely_ inappropriate for you to be in my shop dressed like this!" he choked out. "What if a customer should walk in and see you?"

Crowley shrugged, but Aziraphale was having none of it. He scooped up the demon's jacket and flung it at him. "Get yourself upstairs, you foul fiend. I can't have you down here causing a distraction and running off patrons."

Crowley, still smirking, raised an eyebrow. He didn't say anything, but stared pointedly at the angel's crotch as he picked up his mug of tea and took a sip. He let his tongue linger on the rim of the mug then looked up to see Aziraphale's eyes widen, before he turned and started for the stairs. Halfway up, he could see Aziraphale still glued to the same spot, but heard distinctly, to his amusement, the lock on the front door click.

Aziraphale stood there, feeling stunned, his trousers ridiculously tenting, for a moment more, and sighed. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and silently questioned the almighty's decision to link him so inextricably with the serpent of Eden. His knees felt weak, and he downed a gulp of hot earl grey before pouring himself into his chair and picking up the Confessio. He turned the pages on instinct, but he could see his fingers trembling, and he knew none of the words were actually being cogitated no matter how his eyes went over them. He sighed again.

Upstairs, Crowley sat down and glanced at the time. He wondered just how long it would take before the angel broke down and mounted the stairs to follow him. He sipped his tea delicately and slunk further into the chair, arranging his limbs seductively. He was sure it wouldn't be long. 

Downstairs, Aziraphale fidgeted uneasily and tried to give the Gower the attention it deserved, but he knew it was hopeless. This was no way to enjoy narrative poetry. As much as he'd like the satisfaction of ignoring Crowley's obvious play for attention, his willpower seemed to have absconded, and quite frankly, he decided, the demon should pay for his bad behaviour. There was really only one thing to do at this point. He took another quick gulp of tea, flipped the shop's sign to closed with a snap, and headed for the stairs.

From the landing he could see Crowley draped lasciviously over an armchair, sipping his tea with a smirk like some sort of Austenian villain.

"Damn you, Crowley," the angel admonished, "You've ruined me for reading this afternoon, you wicked thing. I was really looking forward to that!"

"I don't know what you mean," the demon replied blithely, taking another sip. He let his gaze sweep down again, obvious, to the angel's bulging crotch. Aziraphale pinkened prettily, and Crowley felt his own cock leap to life.

The angel set his jaw and crossed his arms. "Right, that's it. Get up."

Crowley stretched, cat-like, and slid from the chair, setting his cup on the side table. "Well?" he asked, spreading his arms wide, and wondered, amusedly, if the angel was going to truly surprise him and this was going to come to blows.*

"Take your trousers off." Aziraphale commanded, instead.

"Mmm'kay," Crowley murmured, grinning, as he kicked off his shoes and started unbuckling his belt. "But hang on- didn't you just say I'd catch my death down there? Surely taking off more is-"

The angel rolled his eyes and snapped irritably, and suddenly a fire sparked among the logs in the grate of the fireplace.

Crowley glanced back at it. "Right," he laughed.

Aziraphale kept his arms crossed, but weakened visibly when Crowley had finally slithered out of his jeans. The skin tight garment went down to the tops of his thighs, and pressing insistent against the sheer fabric was the demon's massive erection- looking a little like a ferocious beast in a very inadequate cage. The angel gulped but kept his composure. There was no telling how Crowley had managed to get into the thing in the first place, and it looked delicate and complicated to get out of- something he wasn't in any mood to entertain.

"How long will it take to get you out of that ridiculous thing?" he asked, still feigning irritation.

Crowley stroked himself through the fabric, causing his hard-on to twitch, and the fabric to strain further. Aziraphale cleared his throat. 

"Longer than I think you've got," the demon said, wickedly.

The angel, fingers trembling slightly, fumbled open his trousers and pulled out his own, now aching, cock. "Fine," he said, breathily. "Get on your knees, then."

Crowley dropped his smirk, stunned. He looked at him questioningly, but the angel's expression didn't seem to indicate he was joking. The demon slid down to rest on his haunches in front of Aziraphale. 

"And take your sunglasses off," the angel ordered him. "I want you to look at me while you suck me off."

Crowley choked. If the angel kept this up, he'd ruin the inside of his very expensive new bodysuit. Bastard. The demon nodded and slipped his shades off, and feeling strangely much more naked, found it was his turn to blush.

The angel stroked himself a couple of times gently, shivering at the pleasure of it, and then held his cock out in front of the demon expectantly. "Go on then," he said.

Crowley's heart was pounding as he leaned in and took Aziraphale's cock in his mouth, sucking the head gently first, then bracing his hands on the angel's thighs, he pulled him in further. 

Aziraphale groaned, and fisted his hand lightly in the demon's hair. "I'd tell you that I was going to teach you a lesson," he laughed, "But I don't think you'll ever learn."

"Mmm mmm," Crowley hummed in agreement around the mouthful. It really was more of a positive reinforcement of his behaviour, truth be told. He closed his eyes and let his mouth work on the hard length, his powerful tongue flexing along it while he sucked. Suddenly Aziraphale's hand tugged at his chin.

"I thought I told you," the angel panted, "To look at me, Crowley."

The demon's eyes opened wide. He gave a small nod and then, looking up at Aziraphale, he resumed his work. The angel sighed appreciatively and stroked an errant lock of hair away from his face.

"That's better," Aziraphale said, looking down with lust darkened eyes, as the demon did his bidding (fairly expertly, he observed). He wished, briefly, that he could be like this in Crowley's mouth all day, but the demon was far too good at this for Aziraphale to resist ecstasy for very long. Crowley pulled off his cock briefly, but without looking away, to lick and suck very lightly at his balls, and the angel reached back blindly to grab the railing as his knees fairly turned to jelly. 

Once his prick was back in the demon's mouth, the angel couldn't help but thrust firmly, he was so close. His own eyes closed shut then, but Crowley dutifully kept looking, in case he was caught out again. At any rate, he reflected, he didn't have much to do at this point as Aziraphale had now taken his his head in both hands, firmly, and was basically fucking his face. He wasn't complaining, mind.

The angel sucked breath through clenched teeth as he thrust into Crowley's mouth, feeling like he was going to explode in there any moment. And then he did- his eyes sprang open and he gasped as he came, his cock spasming against the demon's throat. His eyes were still dark, Crowley noted, but now they looked sweeter, softer, his brows knitting almost pleadingly. 

Finally, the angel's grip on his head loosened and when he pulled off of Aziraphale cock, he was dragged by his chin up into a long, hungry kiss. It was an interesting combination, earl grey and angel spend, but he couldn't concentrate on that for long, his mind focusing on the throbbing the kiss was causing in his dick, which was straining against its entrapment. Just when he thought his knees might really buckle, the angel finally pulled back.

"Thank you," Azirphale said, his usual composure returned. He straightened his tie and smoothed his waistcoat, then tucked himself, nonchalant, back in his trousers. "Now, I'm going to go read my book. You have two choices. Either-" he continued, playfully, delicately pulling at the edge of the bodysuit on Crowley's collarbone, "You can work out how to wriggle out of this ridiculous thing, go to bed, and call me when you're ready, or you can put yourself into something more appropriate, and join me downstairs."

*It was, just not of the pugilistic kind.


End file.
